His Gryffindor
by LydiaMariex0x
Summary: She was his, nothing could deny him of that simple fact.
1. Chapter 1

The moonlight reflected across the Great Lake, the breeze glistening across the surface, as a couple sat silently on the edge, their bare feet dangling in the water. She had once said, "You will never love me the way I love you, no matter how you try. You aren't capable, it's not possible."

He wished her words were true. Love was a complicated emotion, so human, so imprisoning. When had his simple manipulation turned into this...this mess? When had he stopped feeling apathetic towards her tears, and started abhorring their existence? He coud not, for the life of him, remember when he had started loving her. It had just happened, the hate he felt for everyone refused to apply to her.

He hated her for it.

She didn't believe he loved her. She knew she loved him, and it destroyed her. School had been her priority, the reason for her pathetic existence, and then somehow, he had wormed his way so deep inside her soul that no demon in Hell or on Earth could sever it, not even him.

She knew something had been broken inside him, some darkness that could destroy him, and any person who got close to him. Something that could destroy her. But she couldn't stay away.

She hated herself for what she had to do.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his voice monotone, yet his dark eyes trained on her. They were filled with an almost inhuman intensity. She was forced to turn away. She couldn't look at his hands, look at his face, and know what he had done. His hands, had murdered so many people, and for what?

She knew he'd never hurt her, the idea seemed to nauseate him. But was that enough? She knew the answer, but refused to acknowledge it. She wanted tonight, one more perfect night, before losing him forever. She turned to him, and smiled, whispering, "I love you, Tom."

For a moment, his eyes sparked with emotion, and his hand found hers in the soft darkness. "I don't know what love is. But sometimes, with you, I can taste it. I can picture our life, and it will be glorious. I want the world to be a perfect place, for you. Everything I do, is for you."

He gracefully removed his wand from his pocket, and in the same moment conjured a single red rose, and held it our for her. "Maybe I do love you."

He touched her face lightly, observing her. She was no traditional beauty, but she was definitely not plain. He stroked a thumb across her high, elegant cheekbones, and watched her steel eyes flutter shut. He took another moment to admire her features, her delicate mouth, her pointy nose, her thin, proud neck, before leaning in and capturing her mouth in his.

It felt so unusual, yet so sensual, to kiss her. It was something he was not used to. It sparked emotions that were so foreign, so overwhelming.

She both loved and hated the kiss. It was a symbol of all she had, and a reminder of all she had to lose. It was both a tragic farewell, and a heartwarming invitation. It was a punch in the stomach, showing her the future that they could never have.

The kiss went on, deeper, and she felt as if her heart would explode if she stopped. But she knew she must, she couldn't let this continue. She couldn't let him touch her again, not knowing what he had done with those hands.

She reluctantly pulled back, and their eyes met. "Don't do this, Min." He murmured, a rare spark of emotion glowing in his dark eyes. "Please."

She felt a sob building up in her throat, and embraced her Gryffindor courage. "Tom.. I love you too much.. This hurts.." She inhaled deeply, and whispered, "But I can't do this. I can't stand being alone at night while you go, and do those things.. I can't."

Tom's expression darkened, and he sighed sharply. "I will never love another soul, for all my life. You are the one person who will ever mean anything to me. If you do this you will destroy me. I will be ten times the heartless bastard I am now."

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the tears. "Tom, you are destroying me already! I know what you are doing, and I don't like it! I hate it! I hate you. Oh, I hate you. I love you so much, and I hate you for it. I hate that this is happening, I hate myself for every word I am saying, I hate everything in this bloody world and oh, I hate you. I just love you more."

He pulled her close once more, her tears wetting his shirt. He could feel his own tears stirring, dripping ever so slowly down his own cheeks. "How did we get here?" He muttered, placing a kiss on her head.

She reached for his hand, and clutched it as if her life depended on it. "Were we just deceiving ourselves, thinking this would work? Is this just puppy love, as so many people have told us? Will I ever feel anything near what I feel for you, to anyone else, ever?"

His voice was firm, almost harsh, as he replied, "This is not mere puppy love. This is not lust, or desire. This is real. Sometimes the fates aren't on our side, and we can continue to fight them or we can give in. No one else could ever come close to what we have. This isn't just love, Minerva. This is destiny. You can't fight it." He pulled her in for another kiss, but this kiss was different, this was harsh, demanding. This was the kiss of a desperate man, begging her to stay with him.

It tore her into pieces to pull away, and she closed her eyes, relishing the taste of him. She knew it was the last time.

"Tom.. You are going down a road I can't. Ever since our last year at Hogwarts, you've walked further and further away from me. And I love you too much to watch this happen. I can't do it."

The sadness that clouded his eyes nearly made her change her mind, but she stood. She gave him one last, longing look, and walked away.

He watched her depart, wanting so badly to follow. He knew it'd be so easy to change, to be good, to be good enough for her, and as much as he wanted to, the idea repulsed him.

He had to be the way he was. It was him.

For one moment, he felt anger, and rage, and he wanted to shoot a curse at her retreating form. But he knew, as bad as he was, he could never hurt her.

Oh, but how he wished he could. He didn't have a heart, so what was breaking inside him right now? His soul? Did he even have one of those?

He closed his eyes again, and whispered to himself, "How did we get here?"


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Sorry for late update. I'm a slow writer, bear with me. xD

Disclaimer: Sadly, I'm not J.K. Rowling. These characters and their world, however fabulous, is not mine. My timeline may be a tad off, but please ignore that. This is a AU story.

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."

\- Martin Luther King Jr.

Darkness. Smoldering, intoxicating darkness. It fueled him. Emotions were petty, and pointless. They were a distraction. But darkness? Darkness could fuel him for an eternity. He thrived on the hate, the fear, the disgust others aimed towards him. It made him strong, it made him powerful. In his perspective, life was fleeting, so short, so disposable, for those around him. Oh yes, for them. Not for him. If he were to describe the feeling of having his soul split, in the making of that very first Horcux, he'd laugh. It wasn't painful, or difficult. It was as if his conscience, such a cruel handicap to have when you were him, was freed. He was no longer ruled by it, it no longer had any power over him. He had never felt so alive, so utterly weightless. Yes, darkness, he could handle. Darkness was sweet, and familiar. Darkness was his friend, his shadow, his sweet companion.

She was another story.

She was light, pure and simple. Soft, innocent, powerful light. If there were a line between white and black, he would be black, and she would be white, pure and simple. Oh no, but there were a thousand shades of grey, and a thousand shades to her. She was all things good, yet a touch of mischief, just as there were a touch of nobility to his plans for the future. She protected the damn Mudbloods with all she had, and abhorred any who spoke ill of Muggles. She fought bullies hard, and sometimes dirty, though she had never won a duel in the time that he had known her. Oh yes, she was a firecracker.

Her eyes were sparked with fire, the most vivid, alive shade of green. They were deeper than emeralds, brighter than the moon itself, yet sparked with the most powerful fire he had ever seen. Yes, her eyes were something else. There was a spirit in there, a magic that could not be tamed. She was a beauty, he had noted, though didn't pay much mind to it. Physical appearances, sexual urges, they all seemed very useless, very superficial, to him. But for her, he would make an exception. She had the highest, most refined cheekbones, and a thin, heart shaped mouth that looked utterly delectable. Her raven hair fell in a thick, straight sheet down her back, smooth and sleek. It fit her nicely. He admired her greatly, if not for her appearance, but for her superb magical talent.

When he learned that Minerva McGonagall was to be Head Girl, he was pleased, though not surprised. She was, of course, the only student to achieve as many O.W.L.'s as him, and the only person who he thought could possibly challenge his intelligence. He enjoyed testing her temper, it was shocking how much magic the girl possessed, and her black hair would often come alive with electricity from her outbursts. At one point, during a spectacularly fiery fight, she had caused every light in the hall to go out. He was impressed. Her temper was quite amusing. Her utter disgust of him was much more amusing.

And on this particular day, he sat in the Head Common Room, waiting with a smirk, for his prey to arrive. She was very obsessive about her schedule, so he knew when to expect her. At 8:15PM, she would eat dinner, usually roasted potatoes and a chicken thigh. Then at exactly 8:34 she would go to the library, and work on her homework until 9:00, when the library closed. She'd stop at the loo, and at 9:16, he would hear her mutter the password and trudge in.

He glanced at his watch, it was 9:14. He chuckled aloud, awaited her soft steps to echo through the hall.

Without a doubt, at exactly 9:16, he heard her soft mutter, and watched as she walked in, weighted down by books. "I am not in the mood for your foolishness today, Riddle." She immediately hissed, taking note of the soft smirk on his handsome face. He merely laughed, and looked back to his book. He was waiting for her to chastise his chuckle, for she was quite a creature of habit.

"I do not see the humor in this situation. I merely expressed I did not have a particularly fantastic day, and you chuckle at me. You are such a downright, apathetic-"

He cut her off, with a sly grin. "Oh dear Minerva, you seem so utterly...butthurt. For all you are aware of, I could have been interested in your day. But no, that damn Gryffindor temper always escapes first. I may just bring this up to the Headmaster, I do feel the prejudice of my house, and it hurts my feelings. It really does." He kept his tone soft, but his eyes were positively dancing with laughter.

"Very funny, Riddle. I'm going to bed." She shot him a look of utter contempt, and stomped heavily up the stairs. He let a loud laugh escape him before settling back down to the couch.

He had won tonight.


End file.
